Chapter 26

Aaron met Frazer outside the courthouse.

He opened the Beemer's passenger door and peered inside. "What's up?"

He held back a shiver. He wore nothing more weather-resistant than a brushed cotton sports coat, and it was freaking cold outside. His raid jacket was in the back of the SUV.

Thankfully, the reporters had abandoned their positions to file their stories rather than freeze their asses on the courtroom steps. They had what they'd come for. Hope had thrown Beasley and his firm to the wolves, and the guy had been livid.

Aaron wasn't sure provoking a man like that was the best way to stay safe, but why should Hope hide under a rock while others did and said as they pleased? That was patriarchal bullshit if ever he saw it.

"I've decided to pay a visit to a woman called Eloisa Fairchild. Followed by Blake Delaware, Leech's man of affairs. Thought you might come with me so I can get a second opinion on their reactions—assuming Hope is safely ensconced in court?"

"Who is Eloisa Fairchild?" Aaron ran his hand over his chin. He'd let himself grow a short beard a couple of weeks ago and couldn't decide whether or not he liked it on his face. It was potentially useful for work, so he'd left it for now.

"An old friend of Leech's who wrote to him regularly in prison and who also visited him occasionally. She's old money. Marshall Hayes—who is also old money—says the Fairchilds kept Eloisa pretty much secluded at various international schools around the world as a child. Then the parents and only son died in a plane crash, and Eloisa inherited three hundred million at age nineteen. Marsh says she went a little wild for a few years and then withdrew from society again. Nobody knows why. Perhaps she simply grew out of it. I believe she's worth talking to."

"Trying to figure out how one ‘withdraws from society' in this day and age? Did she move to Idaho? Build herself a cabin in the woods?"

Frazer grinned. And people said he didn't have a sense of humor. "I think she stopped going to parties and sending holiday cards."

"Bitch."

Frazer smirked. "I'm more interested in her relationship with Leech. Do you want to come with me, or shall I go alone?"

Aaron checked his watch. It was ten-thirty. Hope wasn't due to finish until this afternoon and even if she did wrap up early Hopper, Black, and Cowboy were more than capable of escorting her safely to the office or home. The fact he wanted to be with her personally every minute of every day was an urge he needed to quash.

"Sure," Aaron agreed. "Especially as you're a potential target too."

Frazer rolled his eyes as Aaron slid into the passenger seat. He boosted the heat.

"Let me tell the others." He used the comms which were just within range and told the team at the courthouse he was going with Frazer for a couple of hours and to contact him on his cell immediately if Hope finished early or anything happened.

After the message was acknowledged, he pulled out the earpiece and tucked it away.

Frazer pulled the Beemer back into traffic heading west toward Cambridge.

"Any hits on people who contacted Delaware after the crash?"

"As it happens, yes. A cell belonging to a man named Graham Burns called Delaware on Monday afternoon. Two twenty-five p.m. The signal bounced off a tower near the Wachusett Reservoir not far from the scene of the accident."

"Have you told the marshals?"

"I tried." Frazer's voice vibrated with suppressed anger. "The guy in charge didn't pick up."

Aaron shook his head in disbelief.

"I left a message telling him I had pertinent information and to call me at the earliest opportunity."

Aaron could imagine the tone Frazer had used. The chances of his call being returned was nil. The lack of cooperation between the federal branches was costing them time and, in this case, that could mean lives.

"Analysts at HQ are setting up real time monitoring of Delaware's electronics—we have a warrant. They'll be ready in about forty minutes. I want to see who he calls after we leave."

"And we kill time by interviewing this Eloisa Fairchild person first?"

"Why not?"

They headed south on Storrow Drive skirting the southern banks of the Charles River. Despite the frigid temps, people walked and cycled along the esplanade. The water was the color of tarnished steel. The sky heavy with the threat of more snow.

"Thanks for the escort home last night, by the way. Unnecessary, but I was touched by the concern."

"Cadell owes me twenty. I bet you'd spot him. He said you wouldn't." Aaron shrugged. "I want to catch this guy. If you're a target, then you're also a potential lure."

"Nice to be useful."

Aaron voiced something that was bothering him. "What happens if this isn't over by next Wednesday?"

Kurt Montana's memorial service was scheduled for noon on February 10.

"If the marshals still haven't caught Leech by the end of this weekend, I'll talk to the FBI director and recommend she request that USMS take over full-time protection duties on Hope and the judge from Tuesday onwards."

That idea sat sourly in Aaron's gut. He didn't want to leave Hope's protection to someone else, which didn't make any sense. She was a job. A job he admired and respected and possibly wanted to taste from tip to toe, but still just a job. And there was no possible way he'd miss the memorial service for the man who'd turned him into one of the best damned operators in the country. More than that, despite Montana's gruff demeanor, the guy had been a friend.

Frazer cleared his throat. "You might not realize, but Kurt and I knew each other for many years. He thought very highly of you. I mean, he thought highly of all the people under his command, but I know he was particularly impressed by you."

"For a geek, you mean?" Aaron pushed aside the ingrained resentment. "Do you think we'll ever find out what happened in Africa?"

"We still have FBI investigators on the ground there…" Frazer hesitated.

"What?"

Frazer glanced at him. "This hasn't been made public?—"

"Tell me," Aaron demanded.

"Traces of Semtex were found on some of the luggage."

The air rushed out of his lungs. "Semtex?" The plane crash hadn't been a tragic accident. It was an act of terror. Anger burned through his veins. "Was Montana the target?"

"I don't know, but I intend to figure it out."

"I'd like to help."

Frazer shot him a considering look. "I'll bear that in mind."

"Do you know what he was doing over there?"

"I have my suspicions, but no. I don't know for sure what he was doing."

"Ackers knows. Krychek too."

Frazer nodded but didn't say anything else.

They were silent for the rest of the journey. Frazer turned down Kent Street and pulled up in front of a large, red-brick house with a dark slate roof.

They climbed out and headed through the front gate, up the shallow steps, past the low privet hedges and mature trees, to the wide, red front door. Naked branches rustled in the brisk breeze. The place had the look of an old Victorian schoolhouse or orphanage and for some reason gave him the creeps.

Frazer rang the bell.

Aaron watched the windows and saw a shadow move behind the sheer drapes.

"Someone's home." He inclined his head to the window.

Frazer rang again.

They heard the deadbolt turn and the door swung open. A woman probably in her late twenties stood there, eyes darting nervously over them as Frazer held up his credentials.

"Eloisa Fairchild? FBI. May we come in?"

"FBI? Why? What's happened?"

Frazer gave a quizzical smile. "Aside from a good friend of yours breaking out of a maximum-security prison, you mean?"

"Ah." Twin spots of color stained her white cheeks. "Julius. Of course."

Aaron wondered why else she thought the FBI might be on her doorstep.

"Come inside." She opened the door wider to let them in. "Have there been any developments?"

"No," said Frazer. "I was wondering if he'd contacted you since he escaped?"

She shook her head. "Of course not."

Aaron followed Frazer inside but kept his palm on the butt of his pistol as he did so.

When Frazer didn't elaborate further, Eloisa led them hesitantly into what was probably considered a parlor with a small fireplace and flowers on the table near the window. The curtains were green velvet.

"Have a seat. Can I get you some tea or coffee?" She had an oval face and straight, fine, shoulder-length mid-brown hair. Her eyes were blue and her mouth thin. She wore beige slacks and a white shirt and heavy cardigan.

"No, thanks." Frazer took an uncomfortable-looking armchair that matched the curtains. He sat opposite Eloisa while Aaron stood near the window. "Beautiful place you have here. You live here alone?"

She pulled a face. "It's been the ancestral family home since the Fairchilds moved to America and made their fortune—before the U in the US."

"How did your family make its money, originally? Do you mind if I ask?"

The woman gave a startled laugh. "Are you interested in a history lesson, or do I owe the IRS taxes I'm not aware of?"

"Simply curious." He crossed his legs. "It's a lot of house for one person."

She cocked her head. "Yes, well my parents and brother had the misfortune to die so we can blame them for the emptiness—or perhaps blame the makers of the jet they were on." Her fingers played with the nap of the velvet.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's been ten years now. I still think about them every day. I'm told they wouldn't have suffered. They would have all simply dropped off to sleep and probably died before the aircraft crashed into the ocean when it ran out of fuel." Her eyes had a faraway look. "They never located the wreckage. For years, I was convinced they were going to be found on some remote island and come back home. All very Amelia Earhart." Her mouth drooped. "I'm sure you didn't come to hear about that."

"It must have been difficult for you." Frazer encouraged her to go on.

Eloisa nodded. "It was. I went off the rails a little but…" She shrugged as if to say, "what can you do"?

"How long have you known Julius?"

"Since after my parents died—I was nineteen. He was very kind." She gave a soft snort. "I know it's hard for people to reconcile the ‘dangerous killer' we hear so much about with a man who gave me advice on how to deal with grief and manage my finances, but Julius was never ever anything except a gentleman to me."

"Why did you drop out of"—Frazer shot a glance at Aaron—"polite society?"

"Polite society isn't really very polite." She shifted uncomfortably, then picked up the chain around her neck and nibbled the gold locket she wore.

She seemed nervous, but was that natural disposition when questioned by federal agents or having something to hide? Aaron wasn't sure.

"I discovered the more time I spent playing in the rich party scene, the less I liked myself. Then I got to a point when I realized I didn't have to go to parties or meet people simply because my parents would have expected me to. I could stay home. Or travel. I could do it on my own terms, not anyone else's."

She dropped the locket. Her hands twisted together.

"What did you and Julius correspond about while he was in prison?"

Her eyes sharpened a little at that. "Anything and everything. We were both lonely and it passed the time."

"And when you went to the prison itself?"

She wrapped the burgundy cardigan closer around herself. "Honestly, I don't remember."

"Why did you go?"

"I was curious. And he told me he was bored and lonely."

Aaron watched her carefully.

"It was a small thing to visit once or twice a year." She shuddered. "I didn't enjoy the experience. Too grim. Too dangerous. The smells, the security, the way the other inmates looked at me."

But she'd gone anyway.

She grimaced. "I found it distressing, but I knew it meant a lot to Julius, and I wanted to give back a little of the kindness he'd shown me. I wrote every week or so. I hope that gave him some comfort. He really didn't enjoy being locked up there."

Tell it to his victims.

"Did he ever discuss plans to escape?" asked Frazer.

"Wouldn't that make me an accomplice? Should I call my lawyer?" She laughed and raised a brow.

"If you actively conspired to break Leech out of prison or aided him after his escape, you could face serious charges." Frazer's tone was easygoing, as if amused. Aaron knew the guy was anything but. "If you'd rather your lawyer join us, then we can take this conversation to the FBI's Boston Field Office."

She considered the idea then shook her head. Tucked in her chin. "He never spoke of breaking out, but certainly he wished to be free. He spoke mainly about the things he wished he'd done and the things he wished he hadn't done and what he wanted to do if he ever had the chance again."

Frazer leaned forward. "Is it possible to read his letters to you? We have yours to Julius from the Bureau of Prisons."

Her expression stilled. "Then you'll know that I tend to go on about the sad state of the world and my latest disasters in the kitchen. But I'm afraid I didn't keep his correspondence to me. I'm not a fan of clutter."

Aaron crossed his arms and raised a skeptical brow. She was lying. She had to be. Who would throw away letters from a so-called friend in prison when they lived in a house the size of most condominiums? Hopefully Frazer could get a subpoena before she destroyed any potential evidence—but on what grounds?

"Might I ask what was top of his list of things he wished to do if he ever got out?"

Aaron watched her throat ripple as she swallowed.

"He always wished he'd started a family." She shifted. "He believed that if he'd had a family, he wouldn't have…"

"Murdered eight innocent people?" Aaron decided he got to play bad cop in this scenario.

She angled her head to look at him, spots of color appearing on her cheeks again. "Been arrested. He always maintained his innocence."

"You don't actually believe that, do you?"

The glare she sent him had those hairs on his neck tingling. Obviously, she'd convinced herself Julius Leech was innocent.

"What about the two people he murdered last night?" Aaron asked.

"Is there proof two people were actually murdered?" she scoffed. "Or is that another media stunt?"

"As I found the bodies and one of them was a friend of mine, I can say unequivocally that, yes, there is proof." Frazer leaned back in his chair, but Aaron could tell he'd lost some of his thin veneer of civility.

She clasped her hands together. "Not to be rude, but why should I believe you?"

Not to be rude?

Frazer pulled out his cell and found an image. Turned the screen toward her. "How is that for proof?"

She went pale and flinched. Then her lips firmed. "How do I know they aren't actors?"

Frazer stilled. "Actors?"

"Crisis actors," she insisted.

"Ah." The word was drawn out.

Aaron rolled his eyes. Whacko. "Would you like a trip to the morgue to prove it?"

"Oh please, I am not so easily fooled. You could take me to the morgue and show me any two bodies. I wouldn't know this woman or man from Adam. The whole thing could be an elaborate setup?—"

"For what purpose?" Frazer had more patience than Aaron could summon.

"To make Julius appear to be some monster. To get rid of two people the government wanted dead?"

She'd fallen well and truly down the QAnon sinkhole.

"Perhaps the government staged Leech's escape because they wanted to kill off a bunch of people and it was easier to blame a convicted serial killer?" Aaron suggested with sarcasm. "Maybe the ‘deep state' is holding poor Julius somewhere while committing crimes in his name."

She stiffened her spine. "It is not out of the realm of possibility."

His lip curled. Jesus. People were stupid.

Frazer shot him a warning look, so he closed his mouth before he said anything that would definitely get them thrown out.

"Are you sure you haven't heard from Julius since he escaped?"

She tilted her head so she appeared to be looking down her nose. "No. He hasn't called me."

"I should probably remind you it's a felony to lie to an FBI agent."

She blinked at that. Pursed those prim lips. "Perhaps I should call my lawyer, after all."

"No need. We're leaving. Thank you for seeing us at short notice. Sorry to disturb your morning."

A floorboard creaked overhead.

"My dog," Eloisa said quickly.

Frazer smiled. "I love dogs. What kind?"

"A Maltese."

"Are you sure there's no one else in the house?" Aaron pushed.

"My housekeeper, but she's in the kitchen."

"Would you mind if we searched?"

She laughed lightly. "I would mind very much."

"You aren't scared?"

She tilted her head and eyed him like he was the weird one. "Let me see you out."

Aaron led the way. He glanced at the fancy hallway and staircase and wondered if Leech was in that room on the floor above. He desperately wanted to run upstairs, find this guy and end this thing. The fact he wouldn't get to see Hope anymore was irrelevant. She'd be safe, and he'd be back in Quantico, doing what he loved.

At the door, Frazer handed Eloisa his business card. "In case Julius contacts you. If you're right and he's innocent, then the sooner we have him in custody the more likely he'll make it out of this situation alive."

"So he can rot in jail." Her expression was bitter as she looked at the card.

"There are all kinds of prisons, Eloisa." Frazer ran his gaze over the grand interior of the old house.

"Some might say living in denial of obvious truth is a prison cell built with walls of ignorance," Aaron added without any subtlety at all.

"But who controls the narrative? History is written by the victors, and the truth isn't always as it appears," Eloisa said firmly.

"Truth matters," Aaron insisted. "The earth is round. The Holocaust happened. Those two people were murdered last night by Julius Leech. Wearing blinders because the truth doesn't suit your purpose is no different than being a flat-out liar."

Eloisa's eyes widened, then she blinked and looked away.

"It can be hard to distinguish the truth. You're correct about that." Frazer spoke quietly. "But one thing I know for sure is that Julius Leech is dangerous. He might not harm you, but that doesn't mean he won't hurt others. Please be careful."

They left.

Aaron climbed into the car feeling eyes on him the whole time he was walking away. "I don't understand what happened to independent rational thought."

Frazer smiled. "Some believe being rational comes at the expense of their intuition."

"Because these people are so intuitive?" Aaron shook his head. "Given the complexity of the human brain, isn't it possible to be both?"

"You don't need to convince me."

"No. I realize that." Aaron stared at the house as Frazer pulled away. "Think Leech was hiding upstairs?"

"What, you don't believe Eloisa Fairchild has the only Maltese in history not to run downstairs and yap at visitors?"

Aaron laughed. "Call it my intuition, but something tells me Miss Fairchild was not being a hundred percent truthful with us."

"Leech could be there. Unfortunately, right now he could be any-bloody-where. I'll have a deeper dive done on Fairchild and request surveillance on her from the local office. I wish the BOP had found her letters to Leech."

"Why'd you lie?"

"To keep her honest and on her toes. The fact she looked surprised makes me think he promised to get rid of them which also begs the question why? What is it they don't want people to know?"

Frazer's phone buzzed. He checked the text. "Analysts at SIOC have finished setting up the monitoring of Blake Delaware's electronic and email communications. Ready to visit Leech's old home?"

"Bring it on."